Empty Places

A few local businesses and other shops we know have been sharing how they’ve been broken into, windows smashed, liquor or goods stolen. Some have boarded up their windows, and it’s a haunting sight. Fewer eyes on the street, everyone at home.

The other day Jon was taking the garbage out late at night, and he found a man who had hopped the fence and was rifling through the car, apparently reading our scintillating junk mail. It was pretty wild. We’ve been now scrambling to find stronger security measures. Our neighbours warned us against locking the car because thieves will just break the windows, and it’s just loose change in the car anyways.

But because we have the kids and the animals in the backyard, and the shop is also downstairs, Jon called in an electrician to get a quote on installing motion detector security lights, with the added bonus that this might deter raccoons for at least a few weeks until they become inured to lights.

I, along with the children, the dog and the cat, are deemed the least essential to the operations of the business, so the five of us were left here to meet the electrician and show him around.

When I was bringing him around into the backyard, as we exited the back studio shop door, I saw the dead carcass of what appeared to be either an extremely large rodent, or possibly a very small raccoon or bird, presumably killed by the cat. I was startled and horrified and aghast and may have shrieked lightly and the electrician was a bit worried about me. It turned out to be a grey toque with the pom pom a bit chewed up (Chicken?).

Jon, unconcerned about my appearing crazy, was more concerned about who was leaving hats in our backyard.

In any case, on the way in, the electrician, who’s done work for us before, commented on how empty the shop was. We’ve been clearing out inventory from the studio shop and bringing it over to the main shop so we can get it up online. With how long this looks to be, having notebooks and pens sit around in an empty shop is no good. It’s a bit demoralizing to contemplate the months and years of business, of setting up displays, building inventory, tidying things up, greeting customers, all coming down to a vacant shop, so I’m basically just trying not contemplating it very much.

One day at a time. Today I will take the sunshine, reading a few books with the kids and better things to come.